Silver Eyes
by Fujitsubo
Summary: How often have we glared at one another? Faced off, wands drawn, insults flying? How often have we stared in loathing at each other? Almost seven years of each other's presence... and I never saw your silver eyes before...SLASH Harry/Draco, Angelina/Other
1. The Incident in the Corridor

Disclaimer: In order not to incur the wrath of Bloomsbury, I feel I should make it clear that the characters and settings in this fan fiction belong to J.K. Rowling, and I am not making any royalties off this story (I wish!)

Author's Note: This is my first fan fiction, and I'm quite sure it shows. In any case, I hope, at the very least, there is something to entertain you in the paragraphs that follow. Dear Reader, enjoy!

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"Harry, what on e_arth _are you writing?"

Ooops.

Harry Potter had thought he was alone in the Gryffindor common room. After all, it _was_ well past midnight, on the night before a Transfiguration exam, and even Seamus and Dean had forsaken their (highly amusing) game of pre-exam-nerves strip poker in favour of their beds and sleep.

But Harry couldn't sleep.

Sick of the constant fatigue of hours spent in the library with little to show for it, Harry had, in a moment of weakness, bought from Ron – now the Hogwarts stockist of Fred and George's merchandise – a "Weasley's Wizards Wheezes! Patented Energy Drink."

That had been yesterday morning. _Well_, thought Harry, _I really should have known better than to think it would be the same strength as muggle energy drinks…_

It was his second sleepless night, and Harry was seriously beginning to wonder when the effects would wear off.

He leaned back in his armchair, and stared blankly at the fireplace. It was odd, thought Harry. Days were spent in such a rush – dragging yourself out of bed with five minutes until breakfast is over because you've overslept (_again_) because you stayed up until midnight trying to cram Charms work into your head (_again_.) Rushing to class (_late_ – _again_), and spending the next six hours trying to bully a sleep-deprived brain into learning. Spending two hours at Quidditch training, then dinner, and then, a sinking feeling as you realise that it's ten o'clock and there's a mountain of half-finished homework...

... In such an environment, there's hardly time for self-reflection – the brain goes into automatic, as you fall into a routine, just trying to keep up with assignments... staggering into bed, utterly exhausted, and falling asleep immediately…

Sleepless nights, though, were dangerous. In the silent hours between dusk and dawn, where the moonlight seems unnaturally bright as it splashes across the walls and floor, the mind wanders. It examines those half-formed thoughts of the day, thrust aside in the bustle of the waking hours. It dredges up hidden feelings...

…strange, new, confusing feelings…

Harry was attracted to girls. He was ... quite sure about that. He hadn't had that many relationships, but so far, it all seemed to be going quite well, aside from the usual fumbling quality and occasional awkward moments that seemed to accompany everyone's first relationships. (_If only_, thought Harry,_ there were a spell to help undo those confounded bra hooks…_)

Of course, this didn't mean that Harry particularly understood girls. He'd briefly dated Parvati, and one time she was in a huff with Harry for three whole days and he had no idea why, until Hermione took him aside and gently explained that when a girl asks you what you think of her new dress robes, an appropriate response is _not_ to say "I dunno... I liked Hermione's better," and then go back to animatedly discussing Quidditch tactics with Ron.

It seemed a shame, Harry thought, that there had to be such a great, and sometimes slightly intimidating, gender gap when it came to relationships. Looking around his classmates and their relationships, it seems that both boys and girls had an unwritten script of how a relationship was supposed to go, and how the girl was supposed to act, and how the boy was supposed to act. Both the boys and the girls seemed quite happy with this arrangement... but Harry wasn't sure how he felt about it. _I mean, we're all humans... is the gender divide really that great?_

But while Harry had been sitting alone in an armchair by the fire in the common room, just turning idle thoughts over in his mind, it seems that Ron had managed to sneak up on him without Harry noticing.

"Harry? Helloo-_oo_ – I said, what are you writing?"

And before Harry could react, Ron had already snatched the piece of parchment he'd been scribbling on, and was now reading it.

"'_Silver eyes,_' Harry? What's that?" Ron's face split into a wide, knowing grin. "Or should I say... who's that?"

Harry started to blush, and then realised what he was doing. "It's nothing, Ron!" he said a little more gruffly than he'd intended.

Ron's face momentarily fell, and then he grinned wider than ever. "'Nothing,' is it? Well, then, there's no need to get so worked up about _nothing_, then!"

He flopped into the armchair opposite Harry's. "Come on, Harry, you can tell me, right? I mean, you've been single for ages mate, and all of a sudden, I catch you sitting up in the common room for two nights in a row, and now you're scribbling someone's eye colour all over your History of Magic essay?" (Harry gave a guilty start – the parchment in question was, indeed, supposed to be his essay on the factors which contributed to the centaur land rights movement of 1935.) "I mean...you've never been so secretive before!"

This was certainly true. Harry and Ron had certainly seen each other through the tougher times in their romantic relationships. (Including last summer holidays when Mrs Weasley had sat them both down and explained magical contraception…Harry shuddered at the memory. Even more awkward had been the conversation afterwards when Ron had asked Harry to explain muggle contraception…Harry wished he'd had a camera to record Ron's reactions.)

Still, this was...different. So Harry, feeling somewhat guilty, decided on a little white lie.

"I'd tell you, Ron, but there's nothing to tell." Harry was suddenly struck by inspiration. "Weren't you listening in History of Magic?" (Of course, neither of them _ever_ listened in History of Magic.) "I think Silver Eyes was the name of some centaur... I only just remembered that Binns had mentioned him; I was going to look him up in our textbook just in case he was someone important I could use in our essay."

Ron immediately looked interested, in case there was something he could add to his own essay. "And did you find anything" Ron asked.

"Oh..." Harry cast about for something to say. "Er... no. I couldn't find any mention. Can't have been that important, then, hey?"

Ron looked crestfallen. "Bugger. I could've used some extra information. I still have five more inches of parchment to fill. Oh well," said Ron. "I think I'm going to go back up to bed. Come on, Harry, there _is_ our mid-year Transfiguration exam tomorrow. At least try to get some sleep."

Harry shrugged. Perhaps the energy potion would wear off soon, anyway. "OK, let's go to bed."

But as he lay in his four poster bed, his mind returned (once again) to the events of the day, or rather one event in particular.

---

He had been running along the corridor on the second floor, on his way to Potions. He noticed vaguely that Peeves the Poltergeist was floating around the ceiling, but since Peeves seemed to be bent on terrorising some first-year Ravenclaws (he was attempting to lift one screaming girl by her pigtails) he didn't think he was in much danger of being targeted.

So it was with great surprise that found Peeves racing up right behind him, yelling "Running, Potter? Careful not to _run_ _into_ anyone!"

And then he was lifted clear off his feet, and dropped just as suddenly, straight onto…

"POTTER – what the _hell_?"

Peeves had carried him straight into Malfoy's path, and because of the forward momentum, he had pushed Malfoy straight onto his back and had landed right on top of him.

One part of Harry's informed him of how much his body hurt from the impact,while another part chimed in to let him know that he had just made a total idiot of himself in front of a hundred-odd students. Yet another part of Harry's mind chipped in to let him know how pissed off Malfoy was, and how Harry was likely to be soon jinxed into a million sorry little pieces. But a more secret, primal part of Harry's mind noticed that the last time Harry had been on top of someone – sweating and breathing hard – had been in a much more romantic situation, and, in fact, his body was responding to this romantic memory and he, Harry, would have to move away very quickly to avoid embarrassing himself even more.

He leapt off Malfoy just in time to see Snape bearing down on them.

"Fighting in the hallway, Potter? Detention!" Snape snarled as he bent down to drag Malfoy to his feet.

"But – but Professor Snape, it was all Peeves' fault!" Harry protested, while some surrounding students nodded their heads. "He dragged me through the air and threw me on top of Malfoy – I didn't lay a hand on Draco!"

Snape glared at the nodding students, and at Harry, and finally turned to Malfoy. "Is this true, Draco?"

Draco was staring at his feet. "Unfortunately, yes. As much as I would love for Potter to be hung up by his ankles in Filch's office, it was actually all that damned poltergeist's fault."

Snape looked particularly displeased at Harry's innocence. "Well then, Potter, what are you standing around for? Get to class!"

Harry ran to get to the dungeons before Snape, and threw his things down on one of the only empty desks left in the classroom. Malfoy came in right behind him. Snape swept in last, and slammed the big, wooden doors.

"You will be doing pair-work today," said Snape, looking around at them. "Before you get your hopes up, I have chosen your partners for you. Their name," Snape said, waving his wand lazily, "you will find on the blackboard." He glared at the class angrily. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get to it!"

Harry realised straightaway that he had been teamed up with Malfoy. As he moved his books over to where Malfoy was sitting, he realised that Malfoy was still looking very flushed, and his breathing had not yet returned to normal. Malfoy didn't even look up when Harry put his books down on the desk – which was strange, because Harry had at least expected some sneering remark or other from the blonde boy.

But Malfoy mostly ignored Harry, except to exchange a few terse remarks to do with the potion they had been set. Twice they had both reached for an ingredient at the same time so that their hands had brushed, and once, when Snape had ordered all the pairs to collect their next lot of ingredients from the front desk, Harry and Malfoy had almost collided again as they both stood up to do the task. They had stood almost nose-to-nose for a few seconds before Malfoy had growled, "Watch where you're going, Potter," and stalked off towards the front of the dungeon.

Harry was happy to see the end of that lesson. Malfoy had been terribly on edge the entire time. _Geez_, thought Harry, _he must be _really _pissed off about that corridor run-in. It's not like he got hurt much – I mean, you could lose Dobby in the carpet that Malfoy fell down on! – and I doubt that his infamous Malfoy ego was bruised by a puny incident like that. And besides, it wasn't even my fault…_

Still, Harry could feel Malfoy's eyes on his back as he packed up his books and walked out of the classroom with Ron and Hermione.

---

Meanwhile, in the present, Harry turned over in his bed. His cheeks flushed as he recalled how close he'd been to Malfoy. _He's the same height as me, and almost exactly the same build…_

Harry blushed. Whenever he'd been that close to someone before, that someone had been a girl. (Not that it had happened that often, anyway.) They had all been shorter than him (Ginny had been much shorter) and … softer. Harry wasn't very fit, but he'd managed to acquire some muscles from his relentless Quidditch training. But Ginny – and Cho, and Parvati – hadn't had much muscle definition, but instead had beautiful curves and soft skin and long, silky hair.

It had been very bizarre to (Harry turned very red at this) _feel_ Draco underneath him. Strange…

…_but not unpleasant, was it? _said a little voice in the back of Harry's head.

Harry punched the pillow, and turned over again, trying to silence these new, uncomfortable thoughts.

But there was one memory Harry couldn't shake from his mind.

Draco's eyes weren't blue. Harry had always thought they were, for some reason: blonde hair and blue eyes just seemed to go together. But neither were his eyes grey.

They were a pure, molten silver.

And (there was that blush again, dammit!) Harry thought... that they were quite beautiful, really.

Parvati had dark brown eyes, lovely and rich like dark chocolate. His friend, Hermione, had hazel eyes. Harry himself had green eyes, which he'd always liked, because it gave him a link with his mother (who'd also had green eyes, or so everyone told him.)

But Draco's eyes had been simply stunning. _And the rest of him wasn't so bad, either…_

Harry felt himself starting to drift off to sleep, still pondering Malfoy's reaction, and his own...

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A/N: My first instalment of Silver Eyes! Yummy virtual Bertie Botts Every Flavour Jellybeans for all those wonderful, wonderful readers who take a few seconds to review!


	2. Doubt and Insomnia

_A/N: Already so many lovely readers! I have a full list of thanks at the bottom of this chapter ._

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Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle...

Draco lay in bed, having finally tired of Crabbe and Goyle's company. When he had left them, they had been working their way through a wizard's pornography magazine. Crabbe and Goyle had been sniggering over pictures of witches on vibrating broomsticks when Malfoy finally decided he'd had enough.

_Ugh, those two, I'll never understand it…_ Draco thought to himself. _Those women probably started out very beautiful, but then they had been covered in inch-thick make-up, greased up, plucked and shaved and waxed... _

Draco sighed. Sure, he'd done his fair share of ogling pictures of naked women. One day, whilst looking for a certain book on transforming potions in the Malfoy library, he'd come across a portfolio of pictures that presumably belonged to his father. (They _didn't_ belong to his mother, Draco was certain.)

Later, it occurred to him that the book had perhaps been planted there by his father. After all, he had been fifteen at the time, and had not yet been romantically involved with any girl, and his father seemed to have been getting suspicious about his sexual orientation. Once, walking past his parents' bedroom, he'd overhead snatches of a conversation: "...honestly, Lucius, there's no reason to assume Draco is any such thing! Perhaps there simply aren't any proper girls for him at Hogwarts, awash with Muggle slime as it is. Now, if we'd sent him to a sensible school like Durmstrang..."

At first, he had been very aroused by those pictures. (And very grateful for the Impervius charm that had been cast on the book's pages.) But as time went on, he started to feel... embarrassed, and a little guilty. The came to realise – the moaning women in the pictures were not at all like the girls of Hogwarts. The women in the photos were passive (...except for the one set of Dominatrix pictures. Yikes!...) – they accepted whatever the picture-men did to them. With their make-up, nail-polish, and oiled skin, they seemed plastic. What were those little dolls that Muggle girls liked to play with? The picture-woman were just...dolls. He knew that, underneath it all, was a woman who had friends and family and a personality and political views and favourite movies. And it frustrated him that those parts – their souls, their true passions, their personalities – were buried away behind the lens.

Once, when he'd had a few Butterbeers down in the dungeons with the other Slytherin seventh-years, he'd tried to explain all of these thoughts to Goyle. He'd got about a minute in before Goyle put down his glass and looked Draco straight in the eye and said, "Geez, Draco, you some kind of fag, or what?"

Draco had given up after that.

Another time, Draco had followed Crabbe, Goyle, and a few other Slytherins like Blaise Zabini, into a wizarding strip club hidden in Hogsmeade. Apparently the old, abandoned Muggle chess shop became a doorway to the club if you knew the right password (or so Crabbe had heard.)

The club was pretty seedy. The dim lighting did nothing to hide the scuffed and faded carpet and the careworn furniture. They bought a few drinks and sat down. Zabini was clearly unimpressed. "Honestly, Crabbe, couldn't you have recommended a better place? These girls look pretty sickly to me, kinda like zombies. I mean, look at their eyes – no expression at all. But then again, you might be into necrophilia, hey, Crabbe?"

Draco slipped away unnoticed while the rest of the Slytherins watched Crabbe and Zabini trade insults about each other's sexual preferences. Somehow, he doubted he'd be missed – most of the Slytherins were well on their way to being intoxicated, and were quite happy to be surrounded with almost-naked women.

He walked back to the castle, feeling very alone.

And now he lay in bed, turning over his confused thoughts again and again. He still hadn't been romantically involved with a girl. He didn't particularly fancy any of the girls in Slytherin. Sure, he had taken Pansy to the Yule Ball in fifth year, but that hadn't really been his choice – Draco and Pansy's mothers had arranged it, and it never developed into anything further beyond the Yule dance. (Draco shuddered at the memories – he'd looked very foolish in those dress robes.) And he'd never been able to get close to any of the girls in the other houses – for one thing, most of them avoided Slytherins like the plague, and for another thing, he had a lasting reputation for being an arrogant, self-centred prat.

And Draco had to admit that, for the first six years of his education at Hogwarts, he _had_ been an arrogant, self-centred prat, up to his eyebrows in his adoration of the dark arts.

But over the summer, he'd come to question his idolisation of the Dark Lord. He could no longer brush off with sneering indifference the reports in the Daily Prophet of innocent deaths. Draco had always known his father had been a Death Eater, but he hadn't realised exactly what it had meant, not really.

And then, one day, he'd heard his father talking to McNair about the Death Eater torture of a muggle woman that had made the morning headlines.

And it hit him. Was Draco's father a torturer? A murderer? What had he been called upon to do in the name of the Dark Lord? Draco sometimes looked down on the happy-clappy quality of those who worked good magic, since they always seemed so poncy and self-righteous, and he had revered Dark Arts practitioners because they were so much, well, cooler.

But torture someone? End someone's life? Draco knew he couldn't.

And so he had gone back to school, glad of the distance between him and his father. Draco didn't want to think what would happen to him once school had finished – would he be forced to become a Death Eater? What would happen if he tried to refuse?

So, gradually, Draco began to distance himself from the Dark Arts.

This development also had one important corollary: it meant he didn't have to fight with Potter anymore.

He and Potter had always been at odds because Potter was so damn pure and good (almost maddeningly so) whilst Draco had been, irrevocably, a servant-in-training of the Dark Arts. But if Draco was no longer on the side of the Dark Arts...maybe he and Harry didn't have to fight anymore. Draco wasn't sure that he wanted to be Harry's friend – could that ever happen? And besides, Harry was such a self-righteous snot sometimes...

But perhaps Draco didn't have to put so much effort into hating Harry anymore.

But more than that, Draco had begun to feel that perhaps his father had been right to doubt Draco's heterosexuality.

It was an idea that Draco had been wrestling with for some time. He'd seen how much his other male housemates thought about girls, and it had struck him how rarely he thought, let alone fantasised, about members of the opposite sex.

And then…

Recently, there had been a group of wizards who had come to Hogwarts at Dumbledore's invitation to teach some Muggle martial arts. ("In case you ever need to practice wandless self defence!" Dumbledore had announced.)

Draco had signed up for one of their workshops, just out of curiosity. They were made to dress in a strange, white garment apparently called a _gi_ – white trousers and a sort-of folding-over top that was held together with a belt.

Draco was then paired up with a seventh-year Ravenclaw boy (whose name was Derek) and they started going through the exercises that the instructor was showing them.

Draco soon found – to his own bewildered embarrassment – that he was enjoying the contact between himself and the other boy. He even caught himself eyeing up Derek's chest (for the shirt had come loose, affording a very nice view of the brunette boy's muscles.)

The class was over before Draco knew it, and his martial arts partner bid Draco farewell with a rather dazzling smile (which made Draco blush) and left Draco to ponder this strange new development.

And then that incident with Potter this morning! He had been standing in the corridor, searching for a quill in his bag, when Potter fell on him from out of nowhere! Draco didn't realise what on earth had happened until he was on the floor.

Harry had landed with his arms on either side of Draco, with one of his legs pressed between Draco's and one resting on the outside. His torso was pressed flush up against Draco's and their faces (_and lips_, thought Draco involuntarily) were only centimetres apart…Draco could feel Harry's breath on his mouth…

Draco angrily punched his pillow. Gods, he was really sexually frustrated if he was getting a thrill from a few seconds of body contact with his (former?) arch-enemy.

And yet he remembered Harry's eyes, how they had been so bright; how his hair had been dishevelled and his clothes slightly disarrayed. Even though he looked tired (a recent spate of exams had left all seventh years sleepless) and exceedingly confused, he had seemed so alive. He stood as tall as Draco, a little bit more well-built…

Aargh! What on Earth was happening? Just because he didn't want to hate Harry Potter any more, didn't mean he wanted to...

Draco couldn't even bring himself to think it. He rolled over and looked out the enchanted window (since they were down in the dungeons, real windows were out of the question), trying to concentrate hard – no, not hard! aargh! – on the very, very cold snow that it currently displayed.

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_A/N: Lots and lots of thanks to Konflickted (your new fic is wonderful, and thanks for the e-mails!), suki53, and DarkLordOfUltimateChaos! Thanks for your wonderful reviews. And thanks to Dumbledude, Paramour Conspiracy, kawanale and diagonalta -- I will do my best to keep updating regularly!_

_And thanks to my wonderful beta and boyfriend, Sparrowhawk. __I miss you already. _


	3. The Missing Quill

_A/N: I've completed up to Chapter 6, so expect the next instalment soon! Again, I have a few people that I would like to thank for their support in Chapter 2 – please see my note at the end of the chapter :-D_

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When Harry awoke the next day, the dormitory that usually held four other very noisy Gryffindor boys was silent. Harry glanced at his watched.

The red digital numerals 9:50 glared back at him.

Oh _shit_! Only ten minutes until the Transfiguration exam!

Harry started frantically pulling on yesterday's still-sweaty socks (even Harry, who was no stickler for personal hygiene, suppressed a slight shudder) while wondering furiously why Ron (or Seamus, or Dean, or Neville) hadn't woken him up.

Oh, wait… He could vaguely recall someone calling his name, and Harry answering that he'd be up in just a minute. _They must have just left it at that, and then gone down to breakfast, _thought Harry. _And then they probably would have been too wrapped up in worrying about the Transfiguration exam themselves to notice my absence…_

Damn it! The energy drink had only worn off at four a.m. in the morning, and only then had he managed to get to sleep. Harry silently vowed never to mess with magical energy supplements again.

Harry burst into the Transfiguration classroom just as McGonagall was reading out the examination instructions.

He stood panting at the front of the classroom for a few moments, trying desperately to ease the killer stitch in his side that he'd acquired while sprinting half-way across the castle from the top of Gryffindor Tower.

"Mr Potter, how good of you to join us," said Professor McGonagall dryly as Harry gulped down lungfuls of air. "Please take your seat over there next to Mr Malfoy, so that we can get the written component of the test started."

Harry nodded mutely (too out of breath to reply) and moved to take his seat. His sense of embarrassment at having burst into the exam late was immediately compounded when he noticed Malfoy watching him. _Damn Malfoy_, thought Harry, _sitting there all cool and calm and perfectly groomed_. Harry hadn't had time for a shower, and although he'd applied copious amounts of deodorant, he hadn't had time to do anything with his hair and so it stuck up in bizarre places and generally caused him to look like he'd been on the losing end of an altercation with a power point. (_Ha!_ thought Harry smugly, _Malfoy probably doesn't even know what a power point is!_)

His clothes were the ones he'd had on yesterday when he fell asleep, and so were horribly creased and had a stain from last night's spaghetti bolognaise. And _then_ he was also severely sweaty from the high-speed dash from Gryffindor Tower (the odour hopefully masked by the deodorant…but nothing to be done about the sweat itself.)

Whereas Malfoy was perfectly ironed with not a hair out of place. _Although it's not as if I care what Malfoy thinks of me…and it's not as if I care what _he _looks like either!_ A nasty little voice in Harry's head suggested otherwise. Harry told it to shut up.

Harry slowly approached the double desk where Malfoy sat. Malfoy was still staring at him, although when Harry returned his gaze Malfoy dropped his eyes quickly without saying anything.

_What? No snide comment this morning, either?_ Perhaps Malfoy was ill? It was true that his usually pale face was flushed quite pink.

But then, as Harry sat down, Draco looked up again, and for just a moment Harry found himself staring at those swirling silver eyes again. Harry's face inexplicably started to get warm. As did other things . . . Harry nonchalantly crossed his legs.

He remembered that he was supposed to be getting ready to sit an exam. He looked away from Malfoy and started rummaging around in his bag for the eagle-owl quill that Hermione had given him once (it had become his lucky quill…he hoped, irrationally, that perhaps some of Hermione's brains had been transferred into the quill and that it might rub off on Harry…).

Harry couldn't explain Malfoy's strange behaviour (nor his own reactions – Harry crossed his legs a little more tightly) but whatever was causing it would have to wait until later – after the exam.

---

Harry and Draco were currently sharing a desk for the second time in as many days, and Draco was feeling very uncomfortable indeed.

Just a minute ago, Harry had come bursting into the classroom, looking like he'd just run a marathon, and had half-staggered to take his seat next to Draco.

_I can feel his body heat_, thought Draco indistinctly. Perhaps someone had put a shrinking charm on the desk? It was suddenly feeling a lot more constricting than it had before Harry sat down…

Harry turned around and started searching his bag. Draco tried to ignore the fact that Harry's shirt had come riding up to expose his abs. _Just cool it, Draco, you've seen worse in Quidditch changing rooms._

Harry finished rummaging around in his bag, and straightened up, with a desperate look on his face. Harry caught Seamus' eye (Seamus was just one row across) and made scribbling motions with his hand, but Seamus just shook his head, sympathetically.

_No quill? _thought Draco.

"Hey Potter," Draco whispered.

Potter spun around quickly, and looked at Draco with a somewhat defensive expression on his face. Draco silently handed him the spare brown-feathered quill he kept with him.

Harry stared openly at Draco for five full seconds, before he took the proffered quill.

"Um…thanks."

Draco gave him a small smile, and turned back to his test paper. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry subjecting the quill to his intense scrutiny – _probably checking if it's jinxed or not_, thought Draco – and, after a few moments turned to his exam paper and began to write.

With a start, Draco realised that he should probably be doing the same.

_Question One: What are three difficulties faced in transfiguring an inanimate object into an animate one? Give examples for each._

Draco smiled. _Easy…_

_---_

Harry groaned, and pressed his hands over his eyes. McGonagall had just ordered them to put their pens down, and was now using a summoning charm to collect the papers. Harry hadn't even started on the final page of questions, while beside him, Malfoy had been idly drawing on the back of the exam paper for the past ten minutes – _the prat must have finished early_, thought Harry jealously.

McGonagall dismissed them, and Harry was about to leave when he realised he still had Draco's quill.

"Hey – Draco…here's your quill back."

Draco looked a little startled, and then said, "Oh… no, it's okay, er… you keep it for a while. I mean, you'll need something to write with during your next lesson, and I doubt Weasley will have any spares to lend you."

Harry was torn between indignation at the insult to Ron, and surprise at Draco's thoughtfulness. "Gee…thanks," Harry said.

"Ha, you can owe me, Potter," said Malfoy.

_So much for Draco's thoughtfulness. _"Yeah, right, Malfoy. In that case, you can keep the quill, I think," said Harry, and held it out for Malfoy to take.

Draco's hand brushed against Harry's as he reached for the quill. Draco's face was, Harry noticed, very pink again, and his hand seemed to shake a little. _Does he have a fever, perhaps? _wondered Harry. _Well, whatever it is, I hope it's not communicable. _

With that, Harry picked up his bag, and walked out of the classroom. Draco watched him go before he too packed up his belongings and followed.

---

_A/N: Thanks again to Konflickted! Draco and Harry's feelings for each other took a bit of a hormonal turn this chapter, but look out for Harry in Chapter 4 as he gets a bit of advice from a friend about his new feelings…_

_Thanks very much to kawanale for the lovely review that made me smile! I actually started writing this fic months ago, for myself, just to clear my head, but now I'm really glad I posted it here. I'm glad that the fic made you laugh :-D_

_And thank you to my readers – Rujutoshi, sHiNiGaMi-ArAsHi1412, Knyghtshade, tashpilch, MadHatter9892, and again to Paramour Conspiracy – and to all the other lovely people who have taken the time to read Silver Eyes._

_And thanks, of course, to my lovely Sparrowhawk._


	4. Angelina's Visit

_A/N: The focus of this chapter is a little different to my others so far. Let me know what you think :-) Thanks for my awesome readers at the end of the chapter :-D_

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"Oh my God, Angelina!"

Most of the seventh year Gryffindors had been sitting in the house common room. Seamus and Dean had just been threatening to begin another game of strip poker (since their game the previous night had been interrupted when Hermione had quietly but firmly threatened them with detention for disturbing other studying Gryffindors) with Ginny egging them on and Ron sitting quietly in an armchair in the corner and turning steadily more pink with each passing minute – when all of a sudden Hermione had shrieked and dashed across the common room.

Sure enough, Angelina – and beside her a pretty, sort-of hippy-punk Asian girl whom Harry didn't know – was standing in front of the portrait entrance to the common room.

"Hi everyone! Miss me?" Angelina grinned as various Gryffindors started swarming around her. In the background, Dean and Seamus pouted at the sudden lack of attention being paid to them.

There was an immediate chorus of yeses, and Ginny Weasley – who had finally managed to muscle her way through the crowd with a combination of elbows and one well-placed jinx – threw her arms around Angelina and gave her a hug.

"But Angelina, who's this?" asked Ginny, looking winsomely at the other, older girl.

Angelina seemed to be suffering from some sort of inner conflict for a moment, but then the other girl stepped forward to take Angelina's hand and Angelina seemed to come to a decision. Still grasping the other girl's hand, she said, "Everyone, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Mie."

Harry looked blankly at them for a second. Girlfriend? As in…lover? Around him, the rest of the Gryffindor common room had lapsed into shocked silence.

Ginny was the first to break the tension. With a shriek to rival Hermione's she threw herself at Mie and enveloped her in a big hug. Mie looked taken aback for a moment, and then grinned (revealing a small diamond glued to one of her front teeth – "Oh my God, how _cool_ is that?" whispered Lavender to Parvati.) Angelina smiled too, all nervousness forgotten.

"Oh my goodness! This is so cool! When did you guys meet?" Ginny asked Mie.

Mie smiled. "Why don't we all sit down and get comfortable? I rather like the story of our meeting, and I want to make sure I do it justice."

Without further ado, she conjured up a dozen burgundy beanbags and a table laden with butterbeer, chocolate, tea and cupcakes, and many bowlfuls of assorted Honeydukes sweets. As the students settled themselves down, Harry couldn't help but admire the effortless way in which she'd managed to put everyone at their ease. Harry _Accio_ed a beanbag (hitting a very surprised Hermione on the head as it came through) and wandered over to Ron, who sat down beside him. Once most of the Gryffindors were seated, Mie began.

It seemed that Angelina's pet owl, Mercury, had been under the weather but (in the manner of tertiary students in both the muggle and magical worlds) Angelina had been rather short of Galleons, and so had taken Mercury to the practice at the Animal Healer's Training College.

"Let me guess!" said Parvati. "You're an apprentice Healer there, right, Mie?"

Mie smiled. "Right. Mercury was actually my first ever patient – luckily for me, we had just studied his ailment the previous week, so I was able to heal him without much fuss at all."

"But you know," continued Angelina, "our relationship probably would have ended there, with me taking Mercury home, if we hadn't met up the very next night at the local pub."

"You see," said Mie, "it was my friend's twenty-first birthday, and she'd persuaded me to come along to her dress-up party at the Dragon's Den pub in London…"

"…and I'd just dropped into the Dragon's Den on my way home from work to drown my sorrows," giggled Angelina. "You should have seen Mie's costume! There I was, sitting at the bar when this girl in leopard-skin – "

"_Fake_ leopard-skin!"

" – right – fake leopard-skin, with about a dozen piercings, runs up to me and shouts "So how's Mercury?" I was so surprised that I spat my drink all over the poor guy sitting next to me!"

"Well, I'm sorry I scared you," said Mie, sounding very unapologetic, ("Not as sorry as the guy next to me," grinned Angelina) "but I was dressed up as Scary Spice, don'tchaknow?"

("'_Scary Spice?_'" whispered Dean. "_It's the name of a famous Muggle singer_," replied Hermione.)

"Anyway," said Angelina, "we got to talking…"

"I wasn't really missed by my other friends," said Mie. "The Butterbeer was plentiful, you see."

"And since the music was way too loud to talk over, I suggested we go to my favourite teahouse – " said Angelina.

" – and we stayed there all night just drinking green tea and talking – "

" – until they evicted us at 3am," said Angelina, "and since Mie lives so far out of London – "

" – and since Apparition when you're tired can lead to some very nasty accidents – "

" – I said that she could stay at my place for the night."

In the brief silence, Seamus wolf-whistled from the back of the room. Angelina blushed, Mie grinned, Ron looked like he was about to choke, and Ginny hit Seamus upside the head and said, matter-of-factly, "Oh, grow _up_!"

"Nothing happened!" said Angelina, still blushing furiously, "but for the next few weeks, Mie and I kept meeting up at the teahouse in the afternoons, and Mie kept staying over, until she was spending more time at my house than hers – "

" – and so when Angelina offered to let me stay permanently in the second bedroom of her flat, I said yes."

"And we started going out just a few weeks later," said Angelina. "And, you know, it's been almost six months now, so I wanted to introduce Mie to all of you guys. And, also, since Madam Hooch wants to move to part-time work only, she's looking for an assistant..."

"So you're thinking of working at Hogwarts?" asked Harry. "That's great, Angelina! I hope you get the job!"

All the other Gryffindors joined in giving Angelina their best wishes. A lot of the girls then gathered around Mie to get to know her a bit better, and most of the boys gravitated to the other side of the common room, where Seamus was challenging Ron to a game of "dare" chess. ("But I am _not_ taking my shirt off!" Ron was saying.)

Angelina was just sitting back in her own beanbag, seemingly content to just relax by herself for a while, when Harry remembered the strange events of the past two days – the strange tension between himself and Malfoy… his inexplicable reactions to Draco's appearance…Draco's reactions to Harry…

Making up his mind, he sat down in the empty beanbag next to Angelina.

"Hi, Harry, what's up?" asked Angelina. "I heard you got Quidditch captain for Gryffindor. Congratulations!"

"Thanks, Angelina," said Harry. "Hey… Angelina… I wanted to ask you something…but I don't really want the others to overhear. Um…"

Angelina glanced about, and then waved her wand in a slanted figure-of-eight, and a translucent shimmery blue bubble popped up around them. "There we go. No-one should be able to eavesdrop on us now."

"Oh, okay, cool. Thanks Angelina. Um…" Harry trailed off into silence. _How should he put this?_

Angelina smiled. "I'm guessing you don't want to talk about Quidditch, then, hey?"

Harry laughed. "No. Er…" Harry sighed. Why did this have to be so difficult? "Um… Angelina… when did you first realise you were gay?"

Angelina looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, and then replied. "You know… I'm not so sure I am. I mean… I've had boyfriends in the past, and Mie is the first girl I've loved, but it's not like I'd never date a guy again, if Mie and I ever broke up. So…maybe that makes me bisexual, I guess.

"But I know Mie is gay. She told me quite early on that her father doesn't talk to her now because of it, although she keeps in contact with her mother and sisters. I must say that my parents were a little unhappy when I first told them about Mie, and I have had friends who have gotten all awkward when I told them I was going out with a girl.

"When friends react like that, I feel really sad. I mean – we're all human, aren't we? Is being with a girl so different to being with a guy? Well… obviously there are physical differences, but gender is just one part of a person."

Harry sat silently for a moment, taking everything in.

Angelina looked at him searchingly. "Harry… I don't know exactly what prompted you to ask me that question just now… but let me give you some advice. You don't have to shy away from your feelings, and you shouldn't be ashamed of them. Other people may react badly, but that is their problem. If you're attracted to someone, and they like you back, then just go for it, and forget everyone else. And whatever happens, at least some of your friends will stand by you. Ginny will, I'm sure!" Angelina added with a grin, looking over at Ginny, who was talking animatedly to Mie.

"Thanks again, Angelina," said Harry. "Let us know how you go with getting that position with Madam Hooch!"

"No worries, Harry – I'll owl you as soon as I know!" replied Angelina. "And if I do get it, perhaps we can all go down to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate!"

"Sounds awesome!" said Harry. "G'night Angelina – I think I might head off to bed."

And with that, Harry made his way across the common room, past Ron and Seamus ("No, Seamus, I will not take my pants off either!" insisted Ron) and up the stairs to the dormitory.

---

_A/N: "Mie" is a Japanese name. The 'i' in Mie makes the same sound as 'e' in 'me,' and the 'e' in Mie is the same as the 'e' in 'met.' So Mie is like "Mee-eh." I imagine Mie as having hair down to her chin, with a nose ring and heaps of earrings. She'd be wearing something like a pentagram necklace and a strappy midriff top and she'd have a bellybutton ring as well, and a long cotton skirt, perhaps done in tie-dye. And obviously she loves animals since she's training to be a magical vet :-)_

_Thanks again to old and new readers alike! Thanks especially to:_

_SwarmOfFanGirls – for your exuberant review :-D it really made me smile._

_Konflickted – thank you for always taking the time to review! I really really appreciate it. (I hope your mailbox recovers .) I can't wait to read chapters 2 and 3 of 'A Little Something New'!_

_Paramour Conspiracy – it's lovely to hear from you! _Merci bien _for your compliments! It's all good – I know that my time for reading fan fics is usually 2am in the morning, and I usually find it very hard to concentrate enough to review other peoples' stories. I shall work on the length of the chapters :-) _

_suki53 – yep, chapter 3 was pretty hormonal. I thought that it would be good for Draco to respect poster models as women – I just feel really bad when I see people thinking of those women with scorn and disrespect._

_kawanale – another very thoughtful review. I know I've arrived at university, really sweaty because I'm running late, but I never seem to have strong enough deodorant and I feel so bad for the people who have to sit next to me :-S Alas, though Harry manages to look ruggedly handsome in that sort of state, I just look dishevelled and smell worse…_

_Thanks to LycanthaRose (what a pretty name!) and everyone else who has taken the time out to read Silver Eyes. _

_And thanks to my darling Sparrowhawk, who continues to give me wonderful advice, not just on story writing._


	5. Close Encounters

_A/N: I got such an overwhelmingly positive response to chapter four – thanks so much, everyone! Special thanks listed at the end of this chapter._

_P.S. This fic hasn't had much action so far – that's about to change!_

---

Harry was just about to take off his school robes and jump into bed when he felt something rustling around in one of his pockets. Puzzled, he reached into his robes to withdraw a piece of crumpled paper. Smoothing it out, he read: "_In the Hands of Beasts: Arguments in Favour of Centaur Land Holdings_" in Hermione's neat, curly script.

Harry sat completely still for ten long seconds, and then smacked himself squarely in the middle of his forehead. Of course! The book for his History of Magic essay. Hermione had sensed that Harry was struggling to meet the deadline and had kindly written out the name of a very good reference book in the library.

_Damn it!_ thought Harry, furiously. _I was going to borrow that book before dinner, and I don't have much time until the essay is due._

Harry made up his mind there and then to go and get the book with the aid of his invisibility cloak. He groped around in his trunk for it, then shrunk it and tucked it into his pocket.

He walked down the stairs to the common room – luckily for him, Angelina and Mie both commanded the Gryffindor girls' attention, and the game of dare chess between Ron and Seamus had progressed to a mildly alarming, yet very hilarious, degree (Seamus, ever the extrovert, was humming striptease music as he saucily removed his trousers – Ron was looking absolutely mortified, Ginny had her fist stuffed in her mouth to stop from howling with laughter, and Neville had hidden his face in his hands with a terrified squeak.) If anyone saw Harry slip out of the portrait, no one commented.

Once in the hallway, Harry enlarged the invisibility cloak and wrapped it about him, and headed silently for the library.

---

Draco couldn't sleep. His mind was a mess – full of endless conflicts. He constantly berated himself for his loss of composure during Transfiguration that morning, and warred against his weird new feelings concerning his sworn enemy, Harry Potter. He wondered if it meant that he was gay – and wondered if it was such a problem if he _was_ gay. He wondered if his parents' fears had been justified. He wondered if he should have tried harder to become involved with girls. He wondered if Potter felt the same way about him, and wondered what he'd do if Potter didn't…and then wondered what he'd do if Potter _did _like him back…

Finally, too restless to succumb to slumber, he crept out of the Slytherin dungeons to prowl the halls in a futile effort to clear his mind.

He had been wandering for some time, and realised with a start that he was quite near to the library. Had he been so absorbed in his own thoughts? Draco frowned at himself. How much time had passed? He glanced at his watch.

_10:35._

Draco stared. That was way past curfew, even for seventh years. And goodness knows, he didn't need to get a detention now – all of his time was required just to keep up with his school work.

And then the night got worse. A miaow echoed just around the corner.

Mrs Norris.

_Filch_.

Oh dear…

---

Harry was nearing the library when he realised he wasn't the only night time wanderer. Soft, even footsteps echoed further down the corridor, drawing Harry's eyes as the walker came into sight.

It was Malfoy! _What are the odds? _Harry thought to himself. Malfoy was looking very preoccupied, and had just glanced at his watch when:

"Mrrrowwrrrr!"

… came floating down the corridor.

That sound could only mean one thing.

Filch was on patrol.

Harry watched as Malfoy stiffened with the realisation, his eyes widening, before he began to run soundlessly down the corridor. Without a second thought, Harry followed.

A muffled bellow behind them meant that Filch knew someone was there. Malfoy turned around in surprise, and then redoubled his pace, forcing Harry to exert himself to keep up with the fleeing blonde. But no matter how the two of them ran, it always seemed as though Filch were just behind them.

_Malfoy's going to get caught_, Harry began to realise, _and that's a less welcome thought than it would have been a week ago._

Suddenly Harry realised that his surroundings were looking vaguely familiar.

That's it! They were approaching the Room of Requirement! _Perfect_…

Without a second thought, Harry whipped off his cloak and whispered, "Malfoy!"

Malfoy half-stumbled out of sheer shock, his expression one of surprise, quickly replaced with the usual haughty indignation and then frustration. "What on earth are you – "

Harry cut across him. "Malfoy, there's no time to talk. I've got a place where we can hide. Just stay there for a second!"

Saying so, Harry turned on his heel and began pacing back and forth in front of a patch of wall. _I need somewhere we can hide, I need somewhere we can hide, I need somewhere we can hide…_

As soon as the door popped into existence, Harry jerked open the door and dragged a very shocked Malfoy inside.

---

As soon as they were inside the room, Malfoy rounded on Harry.

"Where the hell did you come from? And where the hell did that door come from, and what the hell room is this?" Malfoy hissed.

Harry felt more than a little annoyed. He had expected a little bit more in the way of thanks for saving Malfoy's skin, although in retrospect, Harry realised that he really shouldn't have had such high expectations.

"You're welcome," Harry replied sarcastically. "As for where we are… this is called the Room of Requirement."

"The room of what, Potter?"

"The Room of Requirement," Harry replied impatiently. "It's a room that comes into existence only when called. At the moment it's materialised as a small room fit for hiding us – it's what I called it into existence for. Filch shouldn't be able to find us here."

Malfoy looked a little bit mollified. "And?" Malfoy asked.

"And what?" said Harry, nonplussed.

"Where did you come from? I didn't notice you until a minute ago. Which of the seven hells did you stroll out from, Potter?"

Harry hesitated. He didn't want Malfoy to know about his invisibility cloak, so he settled for saying, "I was on my way to the library when Filch caught me out just like you and I ran for it. I guess you were just too focused on escaping Filch to notice my presence."

Malfoy didn't look entirely satisfied with Harry's answer, but miraculously let it drop. He looked around the room. It was quite small, but comfortable. There was a small fire roaring in a stone fireplace, and a thick rug and two armchairs with fat, round cushions.

Harry watched Malfoy's gaze sweep the room. "I'm surprised the room is the way it is," remarked Harry. "The last time I needed to hide from Filch it was just a broom cupboard. I guess we lucked out this time."

Malfoy regarded Harry for a silent moment, his face unreadable, before he gave Harry a small smile. "Well, Potter, thanks. I guess we're even now."

_Huh? Oh, right, the quill…_Harry smiled a little in return. "Yeah, I guess so."

Malfoy went and sat on the rug by the fire. "So… I guess we sit tight for a little while until Filch leaves."

"That's pretty much the plan." Harry went and sat on the rug, a bit further away. The silence began to stretch between them. Harry fished around for something to say.

"Hey – Malfoy," Harry began. "I wanted to say, er, sorry … about the other day."

"Hmmm?" Malfoy was vacantly staring into the merrily crackling fire.

"Sorry? You know, for the whole knocking-you-to-the-ground thing?"

Malfoy seemed to come back to earth. "Oh," he said, and turned away from Harry, although Harry fancied that he saw that the tips of Malfoy's ears had gone red. "That's okay – forget it. Shit happens, right?"

Harry hadn't expected it to be so pain-free. He was expecting something more along the lines of "Sorry? You _will_ be sorry when my father hears about my injuries!" or something equally as obnoxious. To be honest, he had half-expected Draco to stick his slightly pointed nose in the air and march right out of the room, rather than endure confinement with a non-pure blooded wizard. Luckily, no such thing had occurred.

"So, uh, you didn't get hurt, or anything?" Harry persisted. "I mean, you did fall pretty hard."

Draco turned around to face Harry with a faraway look in his eyes. He gave Harry a sarcastic look and said, "Well, if it had been one of you delicate little Gryffindor pansies, it might have been serious. As it stands, however, I am fine, although I doubt that I escaped bruising."

_Ahh, wonderful. Insulting Gryffindors. He must be back to normal. Although he has been pretty decent lately…_Harry was struck with a sudden idea. "If you want, Malfoy, I've got an ointment for bruises with me."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You carry that around with you? Get into a lot of punch-ups, do you?"

Harry looked nonplussed. "If you must know, it's for Quidditch. I don't get hit with bludgers that often, but it hurts like hell when I do, and it leaves the most stupid circular bruise and so Hermione put me onto this lotion. It makes all the soreness go away too." Harry looked at Draco for a long moment. "But if you want to tough it out, Malfoy, be my guest."

Malfoy paused, staring at Harry with an inscrutable look in his eyes…and then shrugged. "I might take you up on that, actually." And without further ado, he started pulling off his school jumper.

Harry almost choked with shock, but managed to turn it into a cough. _Malfoy, undressing? Duh, Harry! Of _course_ he'd have_ _to undress for you to put the stuff on his back…but still…_

Malfoy finished pulling off the jumper and looked at Harry with amusement. "You right there, Potter?

Harry tried desperately to stop the blush that was creeping into his cheeks. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. The fire's just burning a bit high, don't you think?"

"Whatever, Potter," said Malfoy, and took off his tie in one fluid motion and started to work on the buttons of his white school t-shirt.

Harry couldn't help but watch as fabric gave way to pale, toned skin turned gold by the flickering flames in the fireplace.

In fact, he got so wrapped up in looking at Malfoy that he totally forgot that he shouldn't be checking out Malfoy at all, and the next thing he knew, Malfoy was staring straight at him.

Harry panicked. _Oh God! _he thought. _There's no way he missed that I was perving on him!_

But Draco merely held Harry's gaze – his silver eyes seemed to burn with the reflected firelight – and very, very slowly he continued to unbutton his shirt, slowly revealing himself until he shrugged the shirt off altogether, where it pooled on the floor behind him.

Harry stared. Once, a few years ago, he had been flipping through a muggle book on Ancient Greece when he had come across a number of rather well-proportioned, rather…er…bare statues. Harry was struck with the sudden thought that Draco looked a little like those ancient Greek sculptures – not nearly as muscled, perhaps, but so perfectly formed (and, Harry added as an afterthought, _with_ trousers.)

Draco spun around to face away from Harry. "Okay, then, Doctor Potter, hit me with it, or whatever," said Draco, some of the former sarcastic drawl creeping back into his voice.

_Oh, right,_ thought Harry. _Bruises._

And sure enough, a collection of bruises were scattered across Draco's back. Somehow, the sight of those harsh marks on that pale, perfect skin made Harry sad. He felt as though something very beautiful had been ruined, as though someone had splattered black paint on a wedding dress.

Tentatively, Harry moved to sit behind Draco. "Yep, you've got a heap of bruises, alright. Hold still while I put the cream on, OK?"

Harry produced the jar from the pockets of his school robes and put some on his fingers. Slowly, he started applying it to Draco's back.

Draco let out a hiss of breath. "Oh geez, Malfoy, you okay?" Harry asked.

Malfoy was silent for a long moment, and then replied (in a rather constrained voice) "It's a bit sore, that's all. Just go carefully, Potter."

Harry started again, more carefully, gently rubbing the cream in circles over the bruises. Gradually they began to fade, and soon were gone entirely, leaving nothing but pale, flawlessly lovely skin.

Harry stopped rubbing the cream in, but didn't want to remove his hand. His fingertips burned where he'd touched Draco's skin, and he could feel his entire body start to heat up due to the sheer proximity of Draco's naked torso. When he thought of Draco's abs…Harry couldn't help it. He slowly trailed his fingers along Draco's back, snaking his arm around Draco's waist and finally bringing his hand and arm to rest against Draco's smooth stomach, and drawing the blonde boy towards him. Draco didn't resist.

Draco let out a shivery breath, and leant back against Harry, his head resting against Harry's shoulder, his face turned towards Harry's face.

There was a long silence as the boys regarded each other…and then slowly, Draco closed the distance between them and pressed a tentative kiss on Harry's lips.

---

_A/N: Ahhh, I know, what a dreadful cliff hanger! I will post the next chapter very soon, so you won't have to wait long! (Not like evil T.V. series producers who write a cliff hanger for the season finale and then leave you waiting around for six months! That is so evil!!)_

_First of all, let me say a massive thank-you to everyone who has reviewed. I got such a great response to Angelina and Mie in chapter 4. Special thanks to:_

_Konflickted – Yes, you hit upon the exact reason that I wrote Mie into the fic. I didn't want Harry to be totally alone in all of this; I just thought it would help a lot if he had someone who could gently nudge him in a positive direction._

_Paramour Conspiracy – I'm really glad you like Angelina and Mie together! I agree, it _would _have been strange for Angelina to fall in love with a girl we already knew from the books – it would have seemed like a bit of a forced storyline… y'know? And yes, she also helps to push Harry in the direction we want him to follow :-D I'm really glad you like my fic! I suddenly feel motivated to work a lot harder on it ._

_LycanthaRose – I'm glad you like Mie! She's the sort of out-there crazy girl that I wish I had the courage to be! Currently, Mie doesn't make much of an appearance later in the fic, but after your comment, I really think I'd like to write her into the story again at a later date…_

_SwarmOfFanGirls – Yep, Harry's really starting to question his heterosexuality, and this will definitely be a major part of the next few chapters._

_Kawanale – I love the Spice Girls! Actually, I wrote this chapter months ago, probably when I first heard that they had got back together. Somehow, Mie really fits Scary Spices crazy confident persona. In Angelina and Mie, I really wanted Harry to have someone he could ask for advice – in so many fics, Harry and Draco just go it alone and are left to face some really hard questions all by themselves, and there's never anyone who's been through the same thing who can advise them._

_Thanks also to Hikari No Hi (another pretty Japanese name!) and to all of my readers who have taken the time to read Silver Eyes :-D_

_And thanks, as always, to Sparrowhawk…_


	6. Resistance and Requirement

_A/N: I've just realised there was a glitch in my updates. All of the section dividers fell out of my document -- it kind of stuffed things around, since I have sometimes been writing from two perspectives in the same chapter (Harry's and Draco's). So if you were wondering why my chapters sometimes had strange discontinuities, then that's why! But hopefully that's fixed now._

_Anyway, this is the sequel to the cliff hanger! I won't detain you a moment longer with my unrelated ramblings. (Thanks at the end of the chapter .)_

_---_

_Harry stopped rubbing the cream in, but didn't want to remove his hand. His fingertips burned where he'd touched Draco's skin, and he could feel his entire body start to heat up due to the sheer proximity of Draco's naked torso. When he thought of Draco's abs…Harry couldn't help it. He slowly trailed his fingers along Draco's back, snaking his arm around Draco's waist and finally bringing his hand and arm to rest against Draco's smooth stomach, and drawing the blonde boy towards him. Draco didn't resist._

_Draco let out a shivery breath, and leant back against Harry, his head resting against Harry's shoulder, his face turned towards Harry's face._

_There was a long silence as the boys regarded each other…and then slowly, Draco closed the distance between them and pressed a tentative kiss on Harry's lips._

---

There was the barest hint of pressure as Draco's mouth met Harry's own. Draco's lips were very soft and gentle and slightly unsure. It was only the barest whisper of a kiss, but it was more than enough to send hot waves of desire coursing through Harry's body. (A tiny part of Harry's mind suggested that it really _had _been a long time since Harry's last girlfriend, if he was getting this worked up over one, tiny kiss.)

Harry brought his hand up to languidly stroke Draco's neck, and then cupped Draco's cheek in his hand and tilted his face slightly upwards. Harry felt an alarm bell sound in the back of his mind, but ignored it; instead, he deepened the kiss and felt Draco moan against his lips.

Harry was entranced. The warm, flickering tones of the firelight played hypnotically across Draco's perfect skin, bathing him in living gold and shadow. The world was completely silent except for the crackling of the fire and their slightly ragged breathing. He was captivated by the beautiful, angular body that he held up against his own, and everywhere their bodies touched, Harry's skin was on fire. Gently, Harry rested both of his hands on Draco's abs, feeling them contract slightly beneath his touch, before slowly moving his hands up again, delighting in the smoothness of Draco's skin, bringing them to rest on Draco's chest…

Something in Harry's brain rebelled, and the scene froze before his eyes. _Hold on a moment…that's not…right…_

Harry mind wrestled with the truth. He wasn't in Gryffindor tower, and he wasn't in his four-poster bed. And it definitely wasn't a girl in his arms.

He was in the Room of Requirement. And he had been kissing…

_Oh no…_

The trance was shattered, and reality came crashing back.

_Oh my God, _Harry thought nauseously, _I've been kissing Malfoy!_

Abruptly, Harry pulled away to regard the blonde boy in front of him with a sinking feeling in his stomach. _Oh man, what was I thinking? _

_What on _earth_ was I thinking?_

_---_

Draco could see the irony inherent in his situation. _Well, this is a turn up for the books. I went for a walk to try and get _rid_ of the confusion…not add to it by snogging Hogwarts' golden boy. _

But then Draco's mind stilled as he focused on the kiss. In the back of his head, Draco realised that this was his first kiss. He was uncertain about what he was supposed to do, and so he gladly relinquished control of the kiss to Harry. The other boy's lips were warm, if a little cracked and dry from the recent cold weather. And it seemed that, in his rush to make the Transfiguration exam that morning, Harry had forgotten to shave. Draco recoiled a tiny little bit at that. Draco always shaved, and hated the scruffy look of a five o'clock shadow. But the kiss itself was so filled with desire and had such a passionate insistence. And with Harry's slightly muscled arm pulling him up against the other boy… _Not bad, really, _thought Draco hazily, _for a first kiss…_

And then, abruptly, the kiss was no more. Harry had pulled back, a look of increasing mortification on his face.

_If this is how Potter reacts to kissing me, _Draco thought vaguely, _then how much worse is Father's reaction going to be if he finds out?_

Draco almost laughed out loud as he imagined Lucius' face – it would be filled with horror and arrogant disgust. His mother might faint elegantly onto a couch. _Sorry, Father, sorry Mother, looks like your suspicions were justified. _Somehow, he was inordinately pleased at the thought of openly defying his conservative parents and their proud lineage. How would they react when they discovered that their only son would never bear them any heirs? _There goes the Malfoy line…and good riddance._

_And as for you, Potter…_

Draco had a lot of conflicting feelings towards Harry. Long-standing enmity warred with desire, leaving Draco feeling rather angry and confused.

But shining brightly in his memory was the kiss. _You annoy me, Potter, _Draco thought, _with your stupid self-righteousness and your hero complex and one kiss is nothing next to the seven years that you've constantly pissed me off…_

…_but I'm not finished with you yet. This is not how I want this night to end between us._

Draco sensed that Harry was about two seconds away from running out the door, and deep down, Draco knew that he couldn't let that happen.

Before Harry had the chance to pull away any further, Draco had spun around to face the brunette and had taken his shoulders in his hands.

"Listen to me, Potter!" Draco said quietly. "I can see what you're thinking – "

Harry opened his mouth – no doubt to protest that Draco didn't know a thing about Harry's thoughts – but Draco cut across him. "No, Potter, listen. I get that you're just dying to bury yourself in a mountain of angst and wallow in misery and self-loathing. And normally, I wouldn't stop you."

Now that he saw he had Harry's attention, he continued. "But…you're a good kisser…" Draco paused, and grinned, "even if you are a goody-two-shoes prat. And," he added, before Harry could interrupt, "I know you were having fun." Draco grinned devilishly. "And let's face it, I haven't seen you with a girlfriend for about two months, so don't try to tell me that you _don't_ want to fool around right now."

Despite himself, Harry smiled. "Yes, Malfoy, but – "

"Oh, do shut up, Potter!" Malfoy ordered imperiously – sounding very much like his old self – before covering Harry's slightly resistant mouth with his own.

Right on the edge of hearing, there was a quiet, happy laugh that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. But neither Draco nor Harry noticed.

They were far too busy.

---

_A/N: Thank you so much, everyone! I received so many reviews for that last chapter, it was so heartening! Special thanks to:_

_Potterdownthestreet – Thanks for your review! I hope you like Chapter 6 too :-)_

_Konflickted – Thanks :-D I've always thought of Malfoy as being a bit beautiful, and I thought it would be nice for Harry to see that, too. Very sorry for the awful cliff hanger!_

_Paramour Conspiracy – Of course I love you :-P and you're right, cliff hangers are very, very mean. I hope the update wasn't too long in coming!_

_kawanale – You caught me! Yes, it was very _very_ (slightly unnaturally) lucky that Harry had bruise ointment with him, and on a non-Quidditch day…oh, the plot holes! I was hoping to distract you with the H/D kiss… I guess they're taking it slowly, like, I want it to be believable (they've been enemies for so long, it'll take a while to get over all that) but I also want them to be making progress too :-) Thanks for your detailed reviews! They help me decide how to shape future chapters :-)_

_SwarmOfFanGirls – Go the rainbow flags:-D Errr…but don't hurt yourself, hey :-) I love your cute, enthusiastic reviews, they're awesome :-)_

_suki53 – That's exactly why I wrote the bruise cream into the storyline – to get things going! I mean, Harry needed a legitimate excuse to touch Draco…and then things just went from there :-)_

_LycanthaRose – Yes, I can confirm it, Mie will definitely be coming back :-D As you predicted, one of them _did_ freak out – Harry, in this case – but luckily Draco talked him out of it. After all, I really wanted them to get together too :-D_

_Sagey – Thanks, that means a lot, especially coming from a long-time H/D fan! I'll keep the updates coming as quickly as I can :-D_

_And a big cauldron-full of Bertie Botts every flavour beans for headoverheelsinlove – minus the gross earwax-flavoured ones, which are just gross ;-)_

_Thanks also to death by storm, and Dawn Crow, and to everyone out there who is reading Silver Eyes. Thanks for persevering!_

_And thanks to my lovely Sparrowhawk…_


	7. Old Hatreds Die Hard

_A/N: Another amazing response to Chapter 6! You guys totally rock! Special thanks at the end of the chapter…_

_---_

Most of the desire had subsided – or, more accurately, had been sated – and Harry and Draco sat sleepily watching the glowing coals in the fireplace. Harry felt that he could have gone to sleep there, in one of the armchairs, or perhaps curled up on the thick rug by the dying embers of the fire.

_Isn't it funny, _thought Harry, _that the first time I've felt so at peace all semester is due to muggle-hating, Dark Arts-worshipping Draco Malfoy? Whom I hate?_

At the moment, though, Harry was unable to muster up much antipathy towards the pale Slytherin lounging beside him. Harry figured he was just too tired, and would probably go back to hating Malfoy's guts in the morning, when he had the energy.

_It's getting pretty late…we should probably be going soon…_

However, Harry let five more minutes of companionable silence lapse without saying anything, before he finally spoke up.

"I reckon that Filch has probably gone by now."

Draco snorted. "Ha! I suspect you may be right, Potter."

There was a brief silence – both boys were a bit reluctant to leave – until Draco stood up.

"Well then, Potter, let's not keep you from your beauty sleep any longer. Lord knows you need it," drawled Malfoy. He turned, and said over his shoulder, "If I don't see you at breakfast tomorrow, I'll check the ankle chains in Filch's office."

"I'd return the favour, Malfoy, except that ankle chains probably aren't a punishment for you. God knows you Slytherins probably have lots of weird, twisted fetishes. You've probably already tried stuff like that with Pansy," said Harry, and then mimicked Draco's voice. "'_Oh yes, Pansy, cuff me harder –_'"

"That's enough from you, Potter," Malfoy interjected, but Harry talked on.

"Oh my God! _Snape_!" Harry exclaimed.

"What about Professor Snape, Potter?"

"Snape and manacles…ugh, that is the _worst image ever_!"

Draco regarded Harry with amusement. "You know, Potter, I think for once I may be forced to agree with you. That _is_ a _very_ nasty thought."

Draco strode over to the door. "And on that note, Potter, I think we really ought to leave before Filch circles around again."

Just as they were going through the door, Harry thought he could detect, on the very edge of his hearing, a gleeful chuckle. _Who on earth…?_

"Okay then, Potter, don't forget your quill anymore, because I doubt I'll be feeling so charitable next time," Malfoy said, "especially when it comes to Gryffindor half-bloods." And with that, he turned and strode silently down the corridor.

_Yeah, well, feel free to get as many bruises as you like, Malfoy, you inbred pure-blood scum, _Harry thought with annoyance. Harry felt his antipathy towards Malfoy start to reawaken. _Stupid, arrogant git_.

Harry watched Draco until he was out of sight, and then slipped on his invisibility cloak.

He had been given a lot to think about.

---

As he neared Gryffindor Tower, Harry decided it would be best to keep the invisibility cloak on. After all, someone might still be in the common room, and Harry hardly felt like trying to explain himself.

Harry crept through the portrait hole, and then stopped. To his surprise, Harry could hear a murmur of female voices. When he stepped silently into the common room, he saw that Mie and Angelina were still there, along with Hermione and Ginny and Parvati.

"…so difficult, sometimes," Hermione was saying. "I mean, I love Ron, I do…"

Harry knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping, but at the mention of Ron, he stopped. _What's going on here?_

"…but he's not really the most sensitive guy in the world when it comes to sex."

"Isn't it funny that way?" mused Angelina. "I remember once, I dated the sweetest guy, but even though he was really thoughtful in everything else, he was a pretty inattentive lover."

"I know what you mean!" said Hermione. "With some guys, it's like they're sex robots that are designed to reach orgasm, and then switch off immediately because they've completed their programming!"

The four other girls looked confused. "Robot? What's that?" Mie asked.

"I think they're like some sort of muggle contraption," explained Angelina. "Err… sort of like…metal humans…I think."

"I think I understand you, Hermione," said Parvati. "Some guys are really thoughtful in the bedroom, and others really aren't."

"I know that Ron cares about me," said Hermione, "but it's frustrating because he always goes to sleep straight afterwards, and it just makes me feel kind of left out. It's like he's forgotten about me."

"Have you ever talked to Ron about it?" asked Ginny.

"Well… I mean, not really," said Hermione. "I mean, it's a pretty awkward conversation to have!" Hermione added, a touch defensively.

"I think Ginny's got a point there, Herm," Mie said quietly. "I know it can be awkward talking about sex, but I think it would be the best way forward in this issue."

"I agree," said Angelina. "Better to feel a little awkward, and to discuss the sleep issue with Ron, than to let the problem continue."

"I'm sure Ron isn't even aware that his post-coital naps are annoying you," continued Mie. "If you're non-confrontational about it, and just patiently let him know how it makes you feel, I'm sure he'd try his best to stay awake after," she continued.

Ginny piped up. "Plus, it will clear the air. If you just let the problem continue, you might start to resent him, and that's never a good thing." Ginny smiled. "Ron's a bit of a git sometimes, but he's crazy about you, I know that much. Just talk to him. It'll make things better, I'm sure of it."

Harry didn't wait to listen any longer, but crept as quietly as he could across the common room towards the boys' dormitories. He knew he shouldn't, but he was grinning. He could just imagine Ron snoring loudly, unaware that Hermione was giving him a death glare for going to sleep at the wrong time. At the same time, he felt a little uncomfortable. _Am I sensitive enough? Or was Parvati thinking about me when she was talking about the insensitive guys she knew? Hmm…_

Harry finished the climb up to his room. He was both physically and emotionally exhausted, and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

---

_A/N: My sincere thanks go out to __**Rozabel**__ (thanks so much for your review!), __**Crazy-Gurrl-x**__(the voice makes another appearance! but it will remain a mystery for a little while longer), __**MalfoysOnlyChemo **__(I'm glad you like _Silver Eyes_! There will be many more chapters to come, I can assure you .), __**liliycho16**__**Mizuki Ai**__and__** Twinblade Alchemist**__. Also, thanks to:_

_**TwinPhoenixOfDark **__– that's so awesome! I can't believe someone recommended me to you. I hope _Silver Eyes _lives up to your expectations!_

_**The Marauderet**__ – Konflickted's 'A Little Something New' really is a great fic, I totally agree. I wanted Harry and Draco to be a little shy, but I couldn't wipe out all of Malfoy's arrogance – it's just too inbuilt, I think :-) _

_**LycanthaRose**__ – thanks so much for your regular reviews, they're so lovely . I figured that Harry wouldn't take the whole thing calmly and unquestioningly, but I didn't want it to end with just that one kiss either, so Draco intervened…I think he would be slightly more calm about it all, he seems much more rational than Harry might be. (I don't know when or if I will out Draco to his Father…yikes! What a scene!)_

_**imber de caelum**__ – thanks! I thought that an inexperienced Draco could work, but then I thought, even if he is inexperienced in love, I can't see him losing his arrogance – it's too much a part of him . _

_P.S. what does your name mean? It sounds so cool!_

_**Paramour Conspiracy **__– I'm so thrilled at all the reviews too! Everyone's been so nice (and thank you so much for all of your reviews! you always have something lovely to say, it's so awesome!). Yep, I have a bit of a crush on Draco too…I totally wish I had an illustration of the fireside scene in chapter 5 – that would be the best!_

_**Konflickted **__– Thanks for all of your kind words over the past week – I'm a total first-timer at fic writing, and I have appreciated the support so much :-D_

_And thanks to my beautiful Sparrowhawk…_


	8. Innuendo

_A/N: Thanks for your patience :-D It's been a while since I've updated, and this chapter is a bit short :-S. Thank you all for your wonderful reviews. And thanks for all the advice :-D Iit really helps when I sit down to write my next chapters. Special thanks at the end of the chapter ._

_---_

Harry awoke late the next day, and sat straight up in bed with a sudden feeling of panic – _I'm late for class again!_ – before realising that it was, in fact, a Saturday. He sighed, and flopped back down onto the bed. _Thank goodness. I don't think I've ever been this relieved that it's the weekend. _Harry reflected unhappily on the past week. _God knows I need a break…_

Harry was looking forward to a nice hot breakfast of bacon and eggs with a pot of tea when he looked out the window. The sun had already risen quite high in the sky. With a sinking feeling, Harry looked at his watch. It was already going on for quarter to eleven, and breakfast in the Great Hall finished at half-past ten.

Harry wasn't sorry that he'd miss the opportunity to see Draco in the Great Hall – he wasn't ready to open that can of worms just yet – but he was sorry to have missed the food.

_I guess I could always just sneak down to the kitchens and pilfer something from the house elves…_

Harry was struck with sudden inspiration. _Or maybe…_

He looked around. There was no-one else in the common room.

"_Psst! Dobby!_" Harry whispered. After a moment, there was a loud _crack! _and the house elf Apparated in front of him. "Harry Potter, sir!" he squeaked. "How glad Dobby is to see Harry Potter again!"

"Yes Dobby, great to see you too. Hey, listen," said Harry. "I missed breakfast this morning. Do you think you can grab me something from the kitchens?"

"Certainly, Harry Potter!" replied Dobby. "Is there anything in particular that Harry Potter would like?"

"Er… just some toast would be fine, Dobby," said Harry, and the elf Disapparated. He reappeared a moment later, staggering with a hugely laden silver tray, which Harry lifted from him before the house elf was squashed beneath it.

"Thank you, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby. "Dobby tried to carry a little bit too much."

'A little bit too much' was an understatement. In the middle of the tray was a mountain of toast, surrounded by about a dozen different little pots full of jams and spreads – honey, marmalade, blueberry jam, peanut butter, and some he couldn't identify – as well as a giant teapot filled with hot tea, plus a milk jug and sugar bowl, and a giant pitcher of fresh orange juice. Harry was extremely surprised that the elf had managed to lift it in the first place.

"Wow – this is amazing!" Harry turned to the house elf. "Thanks, Dobby, you're a lifesaver!" said Harry gratefully, whilst privately wondering if he could finish half as much toast in a whole week of breakfasts.

"Any time, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is always too happy to help!" said Dobby, bowing low, and with a final _crack_, he Disapparated.

---

After breakfast, Harry wandered down to the lake. He suspected that Hermione and Ron would be in the library – where he ought to be, too, finishing off his History of Magic essay – but he didn't feel like talking to them just now. He wanted a bit of time alone to figure out what was happening between himself and Malfoy, before he had to see Draco again.

But it was not to be. Harry had been sitting under a tree by the edge of the lake for only ten minutes, when a familiar voice startled Harry out of his reverie. "When I didn't see you at breakfast, and couldn't find you in Filch's office or in Snape's dungeons, I started to worry."

"You, Malfoy? Worried? Yeah, right."

"You're right. I wasn't in the least concerned." Malfoy sat down beside Harry, with his back up against the tree trunk and his shoulder almost touching Harry's.

Harry stared. "So why are you here, then?"

Draco took some time to reply. "I'm here," he said, "because I think we need to work through all of that angst that we skipped over last night."

Harry thought for a little while. He thought about how happy Angelina and Mie looked together, and then pondered Angelina's advice to him. _"You don't have to shy away from your feelings, and you shouldn't be ashamed of them…"_

"Well…if you're talking about the problem with you being a boy…then I'm fine with it, I don't care that we're both guys," Harry said slowly.

Draco looked up in surprise, and was about to say something when Harry cut across him. "But as for you being a Malfoy, that is a bit of a problem. I hate you, and you do a pretty good impression of hating me. Plus," Harry continued, "what about Voldemort?" Draco flinched at the name, but Harry spoke on relentlessly. "What about your precious Dark Lord? I know that your whole family is tripping over themselves to do his torturing and killing for him. And you know what, Malfoy? I have a problem with that. We're enemies, and as long as you're a servant of the Dark Arts, we're going to be enemies. And enemies don't just snog each other in the Room of Requirement. If they did, then by that logic I should be shagging the whole of Slytherin house. So – last night…why did you persuade me to stay?"

"I can't give you an answer to that, Potter. I don't know why I wanted you to stay. But we don't have to be enemies."

He sighed. "Listen, Potter," Draco began, "I'm not a nice person. Funnily enough, many Slytherins aren't. But I realised something this summer." He looked Harry in the eye, and then looked away again. "I'm not Lucius, Potter. I'm not my father. And you know what? I don't want to be."

"Well, that's news to me," replied Harry. "Mr Draco _My-Father-Will-Hear-About-This_ Malfoy, distancing himself from his dear ol' daddy? Who else will you run to when you want to get yourself out of detention?"

"Whatever, Potter. You goody-two-shoes Gryffindors really piss me off," Draco said angrily, "with all of your bullshit about being noble and good and pure of heart. I don't want to be like you guys. I don't want to be like Dumbledore or McGonagall or Granger. I _don't_ _want_ to be a suck-up Gryffindor, but Lucius…" Draco went silent for a second, and then continued quietly, "…Lucius is an evil bastard. And I don't want to be him either."

Harry was struck by Draco's seriousness. There was something so sincere in his manner. In spite of himself, Harry felt himself believing Draco's words.

"So anyway, Potter, since I'm not lining up to kiss the Dark Lord's shoes like every other sorry loser in Slytherin, I figured that, even if we weren't friends, we needn't be archenemies." Draco smirked arrogantly. "I've got much more important things to do with my time than waste it quarrelling with you."

"Yeah, well, frankly, I have better things to do, too," said Harry, "although I will miss kicking your arse, Malfoy."

"In your dreams, Potter."

Without thinking at all, Harry replied, "No, Malfoy, in my dreams I do something entirely different with your arse."

There was a sort of choked pause as both boys processed what Harry had just said, which soon developed into a deeply embarrassed silence that stretched on and on – both boys unwilling to say anything more, and both unwilling to walk away.

Harry was the first to break. He jumped up and ran, trying to escape the intense mortification he felt at his own words. He vaguely heard Malfoy's shout behind him, but ignored it. _What on earth did I say that for?_

But in the next moment, the ground was flying up to meet him and he was face down in the dirt. He heard Draco running to catch up to him, and the felt himself being forcibly turned over.

"Potter, you great, clumsy git!" shouted Malfoy. "I hope you didn't break that overlarge nose of yours in that fall!"

Harry saw that Draco was leaning over Harry on all fours. Spitting out a mouthful of leaves, Harry rolled over and replied, "Well, Malfoy, you know what they say. Large nose…"

"Large handkerchief, Potter?" said Draco, smirking.

Quick as a flash, Harry knocked one of Malfoy's legs from under him so that he fell onto the brunette boy's chest. "Like being on top, Malfoy?"

"Screw you, Potter," rejoined Malfoy, though he made no attempt to move off Harry.

"Are you volunteering, Malfoy?" sneered Harry.

"You wish," Malfoy replied.

A few more moments passed, and still neither boy moved. Malfoy's shirt was slightly open, and Harry had a glimpse of the beautiful skin that had so entranced him the night before.

Harry looked back up at Draco's face. Their lips were awfully close, Harry realised. _Close enough to…_

"Not here, Potter," Malfoy said quietly.

"Meet me tonight, then," replied Harry. "Outside the Great Hall at half-past eight."

Draco gave a curt nod and clambered to his feet. Harry smiled as he watched Malfoy march stiffly towards the entrance of the castle. _Difficulty walking, hey, Malfoy? _Harry made as if to follow him, and then sat back down abruptly.

_On second thoughts…_

…_perhaps I'll just sit here for a little while longer instead_, Harry thought to himself.

---

_A/N: Thanks to a lot of really awesome people who have made writing this fic so much easier! Thanks to _**Konflickted **_(Thank you for always reviewing, it's so awesome :-) and your fic is coming along so well!), _**kawanale **_(lovely review! More HD snarkiness, but it makes for such fun dialogue .), _**The Marauderet **_(yep, arrogance is pretty much built into the Malfoy line . and I think Draco would hardly be Draco without it, lol), _**Xephia **_(thanks so much! that means a lot coming from a long-time H/D fan! And your new H/D fic is absolutely _awesome! _Everybody go read it:-D), _**SwarmOfFanGirls **_(never fear, the mysterious voice will reveal its identity soon enough!), _**Sagey **(_I agree, it can be awkward sometimes when Harry and Draco just forget all their enmity and go all gooey-eyed at each other… I mean, they were worst enemies!), and _**suki53 **_(don't worry, Harry and Draco's relationship will definitely move forward, but it won't be without difficulties) and thanks to _**spikesbitch **_and _**Het-Heru **_and _**Avvy Kavvy**

_Thanks also to _**Paramour Conspiracy **_– Haha, long-haired Harry is awesome, but he looked pretty good in the latest movie, too – _really _buff :-D I attempted to draw the fireside scene from the Room of Requirement, but I can't draw! For some really lovely fanart of Harry and Draco, look for the author __**Naadi**__, her website is full of fan art and it is absolutely amazing!_

_And thanks to _**LycanthaRose** – _Thanks for your review! Yeah, that whole 'partner going to sleep' has happened to me – it is horrible! – and somehow Ron just seemed like he would do that accidentally. By the way, your guess is really close ;-) _

_And thanks to Sparrowhawk…_


	9. Waiting

Chapter 9

_A/N: I am so sorry for letting months and months pass without any update! This chapter is waaaay too short, I know, but I wanted to post something at least – I've been so busy with assignments and life in general, and I thought that if I waited until I had enough time to write a good, long chapter then it may be another few months before I got around to it! Thanks at the end of the chapter…_

_--_

Draco was in his room in the Slytherin dungeons, lying indolently on his back on his four-poster bed, staring into the draperies that protected him from the rest of the world. The dying rays of the sun lit up the dark green velvet, turning it a brilliant emerald.

_Harry, tangled in my arms, the firelight turning his eyes a brilliant emerald, washing his skin with gold… _

Draco turned away from the sunlit curtains, aroused and frustrated by the memory. _Damned Potter_, he thought, punching his pillow. _Damn him for making me think of him. Damn him for making me want him…_

With a sigh, Draco relented in his assault on the cushion and lay back down. Luckily, he'd managed to arrest the train of thought about Harry before… Draco scowled. Earlier, he'd resorted to a round of, _ahem_, "boy's solitaire" in order to relieve the awful whirl of desire and uncertainty he felt towards the Gryffindor.

Draco shut his eyes in an attempt to quiet his mind. He thought he would dearly love to strangle Harry in an attempt to vent his confusion – hurting Harry was simple, but desiring him was complicated and oddly painful to deal with – but even the thought of being close enough to strangle Harry (_to place his hands once more on that warm, smooth skin_) made his blood run hot and his face flush. He thought of Harry – Harry lying below him, their hips together, their legs tangled – and his skin burnt with desire wherever he imagined Harry's body touching his.

With a half-strangled groan, he flipped over and shoved his head under the pillows.

_What torture it is to be left alone with one's own mind_, thought Draco. He was still three hours away from his meeting with Harry, and was going insane.

_What on Earth am I supposed to say? 'Hi Harry, by the way, the thought of kissing you gives me an erection. Let's shag!' _

Draco paused in his thoughts for a moment. _If we were to move beyond kissing… how would we have sex? How do two men have sex?_

Draco grimaced. _Well, obviously they… well, one is on top, and…how do they decide who's going to be on the _(Draco cringed) _bottom?_

Draco shifted uncomfortably as he recalled an unwittingly overheard conversation between Pansy telling one of her girlfriends how painful it was losing her virginity. He'd smirked to himself at the time, but now wished he hadn't.

_Will it be painful?_ he wondered, with mounting anxiety.

He mentally slapped himself. _Get a grip, Draco – it will probably never even happen. You – son of Lucius and Narcissus Malfoy, ardent servants of the Dark Lord – and Potter, The Boy Who Lived? Let alone the fact that you're both guys…_

Draco sighed. _No – it's impossible. There's nothing that we share and nothing that we ever will._

Still, in the face of all hopelessness, his mind wandered back to the previous night – the soft firelight, and Harry's lips…

_Just a memory_, thought Draco – and yet, he allowed himself to be comforted by it, by the ghostly touch of Harry's hand, by the pale remembrance of his embrace…

--

_A/N: A special thanks to __**chibisansempei**_ – _your comment gave me the wake-up call I needed to start posting again!_

_My heartfelt thanks go to __**oreoxlove4ever**__, __**SlytherinSceneKid**__,__** Sagey Pagey **__(I'm so sorry it took me ages to update!), __**Xephia**__and __**Idina Malfoy**__ (I do plan on many more chapters, and I shall strive to keep the writing quality up!), __**SwarmOfFanGirls**__, __**LycanthaRose **__(I think the comment Harry makes about Draco's arse is probably my fave line that I've written .), __**Dezra**__(Yeah, I didn't want Harry to spend to much time angsting, better to just get on with the story I think .) __**ParamourConspiracy **__(thanks for sticking with me this long!) __**spikesbitch, **__and __**Konflickted. **_

_To my long-time readers – you are awesome, and I hope I can continue to entertain you._

_To any new readers, I hope you enjoy this fic! It's always a real buzz to hear from you, so don't be shy to comment ._

_And to Sparrowhawk – if you are reading – you remain my inspiration…_


	10. Complicated

_Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle…_

--

_He could almost feel the touch of Draco's hand upon his shoulder, as the blonde-headed boy leant forward to – _

"Harry? Harry! Snap out of it!"

Harry was startled out of his reverie by a well-aimed cushion, which hit him smartly on the head.

"Ow!" Harry winced as he rubbed his forehead absentmindedly. "Ron! What was that for?" He scowled at his red-headed friend, who returned the look with an extra measure of exasperation.

Opposite Ron lounged Seamus, semi-naked and grinning broadly. Seamus and Ron were only fifteen minutes into a game of strip chess, and Seamus had already lost his blazer, tie, shirt, belt, both shoes and a sock. Ron had initially opposed the game, but had finally caved in and allowed himself to be challenged by Seamus, reasoning – quite accurately, as it was turning out – that since Seamus was dreadful at chess, he, Ron, would probably have to take off little more than his sweater.

Seamus, however, didn't seem the least bit perturbed by his own advanced state of undress. He had been trying to catch the attention of a group of Gryffindor fifth-year girls ever since he'd removed his shirt five minutes ago, but had received little for his efforts and suggestive gestures than a few eye-rolls and (after a particularly rude comment) an offer to hex him _very_ _intimately_ if he couldn't keep his foul propositions to himself. (Seamus had just grinned roguishly, but wisely held his tongue after that.)

Ron was still staring at Harry in exasperation. "For heaven's sake, Harry, I called you twice already and you didn't respond at all – you were just sitting there, gazing at that idiot," he motioned to Seamus, "with this creepy look on your face. Honestly – what the hell?"

Harry realised that Seamus had turned his Cheshire cat grin on himself. "Well, Harry, I know I'm sexy, but it looks like ye' gonna have to restrain yourself in front of Ron – I think he suspects about us."

Seamus turned around to face a gaggle of fourth-year girls who were staring at him and Harry in amazement. While Harry's faced burned with embarrassment, Seamus said "Now, lassies, _you_ are welcome to stare all ye' like – ow!"

Ginny had just witched the cushion – the same one that had hit Harry a moment ago – to smack Seamus in the back of his head. "Oh, grow _up_ Seamus and leave those poor girls alone – it's hard enough seeing your face, let alone forcing them to witness your skinny pigeon chest!"

"Well, hello Genevieve!" Seamus said, puffing out his chest and striding forward.

"Watch it, Seamus – next time it's going to be this textbook that I bewitch, and I can tell you that it's _not_ going to hit the back of your head!" threatened Ginny, with an dangerously sweet smile.

Seamus merely laughed and turned back to Harry. "Now, as for you, lover boy – "

"Geez, Seamus, will you not say that?" complained Ron.

"Jealous, Ronnykins?" said Seamus, turning to Ron, whose ears were turning dangerously pink. "I know you're just using this chess game as a ruse to get me nekkid – but Ron, if you're that desperate to, aha, 'capture my castle', why don't we take this upstairs?"

Ron was spluttering in indignation. "What the hell, Seamus? Quit fooling around, you stupid sod, and – "

Harry tuned out the rest of Ron's curses. Before he had become lost in thoughts of Draco, Harry _had_ been staring at Seamus to try and work out if he felt any attraction at seeing a naked male torso. Objectively speaking, he could see that Seamus was good-looking (many girls went for his "cute" Irish accent) but he, Harry, could definitively say that he felt no sexual desire for Seamus whatsoever. (Indeed, the thought of getting freaky with him was off-putting in the extreme.)

_And it's not like I haven't spent the past seven years in Quidditch changing rooms, surrounded by other guys in various states of undress! Why is it only Draco that I want to – _

Harry stopped himself. He'd been about to say "shag", but then his thoughts caught up with his libido. _Wait… _do_ I want to shag Malfoy? _Frankly, Harry didn't want to think about it. Having sex with women was reasonably straightforward (_well…not really…_) but… with another guy? How…?

Harry's brain shied away from the thought. _Things had been complicated enough with Parvati…_

He settled into his armchair, and glanced at his watch. Five minutes past seven o'clock.

With a sigh, Harry leant back into his arm-chair by the Gryffindor common-room fire, closing his eyes against the flickering light and the warmth it gave _mingling with Draco's hot breath on my cheek, my face burning where he brushes it with his fingertips – _

Harry opened his eyes again quickly, silently cursing his brain's proclivity to dredge up last night's memories at the most inconvenient moments. _I need to be able to think rationally_, Harry thought with mounting frustration. _I need to talk to him, not pash him…_

_Of course_, suggested the more hormonally-charged recesses of his brain, _it needn't be an either/or situation…_

Harry stared moodily into the fire. His thoughts had been racing in circles ever since Draco had left him sitting by the lake, and despite hours spent in contemplation, Harry still had no idea of what he would say to Draco when they met in (Harry glanced nervously at his watch once more) less than an hour's time.

_The problem is_, thought Harry to himself, _I don't understand how I feel and I don't know what I want_. When Harry examined his…physical desire…for Draco, he felt somewhat nervous and guilty. He had always been vaguely aware of homosexuality, and had never had a problem with it, but had never expected to have to deal with having feelings for another guy himself. _Is this something that I'm going to have to hide away from my friends?_ Harry wondered. Obviously, he could talk to Angelina, and perhaps to Mie (although, perhaps not – she was almost a complete stranger, really) but Ron – what would he say to Ron?

_Nothing_, Harry decided, _for the moment_. _There's no point in creating a fuss with Ron by telling him I'm gay, when even I don't know if that's what I really am_…

_Is Draco gay?_ Now that Harry came to think of it, he had never seen Draco with a proper girlfriend. Sure, Pansy simpered and fussed over him, but it never seemed to go past flirtation. Draco was probably gratified by the attention – _of course he would be, the arrogant git_ – but nothing had ever suggested (at least to Harry) that Draco and Pansy, or any other girl for that matter, had been involved either physically or romantically. (And besides, rumours spread like wildfire in Hogwarts, and Harry had never heard any rumours about Draco's love life.)

_So if this thing with Draco continues, will we be – dating? _Harry cringed at the terminology… somehow, "dating" seemed to be entirely the wrong word. "Dating" seemed to imply having slightly awkward conversations over coffee in Madam Puddifoot's horrible little café, and struggling to remember anniversaries.

"Dating" also sounded so…_emotional_. Dating, to Harry, meant having someone to listen sympathetically to you while you complained about training for the upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin, or himself being a shoulder to cry on when her family pet died. Could he imagine Draco crying to him, or going to Draco with his fears and worries?

_Yeah, right…and Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts might fly!_

Harry looked at his watch again.

7:10. If he didn't hurry, he wouldn't have time to eat before he met Malfoy.

Without a backward glance at Ron and Seamus (both had settled down enough to resume their chess game) Harry headed for the portrait-hole and was half-way out when a familiar voice stopped him.

"Harry?"

He turned around to find Parvati standing just behind him. "Oh… hi Parvati. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing really."

"Oh," Harry replied stupidly, at a loss for what to say. The silence stretched for a moment, until –

"Actually, are you heading down for dinner? Do you mind if I join you?"

Harry was somewhat taken aback, but found himself saying: "Sure, why not?"

Parvati smiled at him and moved towards the portrait hole, causing Harry's heart to speed up as she gently brushed past him. _That perfume she used to wear… _Harry was seized with an insane desire to reach out and –

He quickly squashed the thought. _She broke up with me_, he told himself, _and I doubt she's interested in resuming the relationship. I'm sure she just wants to chat to me…after all, it has been a while since we broke up, and maybe the time has come when we can talk like regular acquaintances again…_

Harry climbed out of the portrait hole after Parvati.

…_and if she does want to be more than friends? _

_Yeah, right… _

Still, watching Parvati walking along the corridor in front of him, Harry suddenly felt that everything had become just a little bit more complicated than before…

--

_A/N: Thanks especially to everyone who has taken the time to read, and especially to those who have commented – it really makes my day! I'm not sure if I've done the right thing in introducing a Harry/Parvati relationship (I mentioned it briefly in passing a few chapters ago that Parvati and Harry had been involved sometime in the past) and I'd really appreciate your thoughts on this matter…if enough people think that it's a bad idea, I'll probably scrap it…_

_And to Sparrowhawk – you make my life complicated :-P _


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